


A Very Supernatural Christmas Extras

by otterystkisses



Series: A Very Supernatural Christmas Prince [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 06:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterystkisses/pseuds/otterystkisses
Summary: Excerpts from A Very Supernatural Christmas Prince that don't belong in the main storyline.--Excerpt 1: Christmas 2016, One Year Before the Events of the Main Story. Kansas, Aldovia, and Bangkok.





	A Very Supernatural Christmas Extras

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rae1112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rae1112/gifts).



_Christmas, 2016 — One Year Before the Events of the Main Story_

 

_Lawrence, Kansas_

“Well, here’s to another Christmas,” Dean said, and clinked the neck of his beer bottle against Sam’s. “Happy birthday Jesus.” 

“They unchained you from your desk long enough for you to come back, huh?” said Bobby, from his habitual position in the armchair in front of the TV. If Sam didn't know any better he'd think that Bobby was surgically attached to the ratty old thing. 

Handing Bobby his refilled whiskey tumbler, Sam answered, “Yeah—it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Even though he had just started at Hell’s Kitchen that September, his boss Lucifer hadn’t had a problem with Sam’s requested Christmas leave. 

(His coworker Ruby, whose leave had _not_ been approved, had complained at every opportunity about favoritism.

“I have _seniority_ ,” she had insisted. “It’s just because Lucifer wants to fuck him!”

Sam was a little scared of Ruby. 

One day, after Ruby’s comments had become a little too pointed, his other coworker, Crowley, had pulled Sam aside.

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” he had advised. “Part of her charm is that her bark is worse than her bite. She wasn’t loved enough as a child.”

Sam was also a little scared of Crowley, truth be told. Everyone at Hell’s Kitchen could be…intense.)

“I’m just surprised you came back from the big ol’ city to come be with us here in podunk nowhere,” Dean said, eyes on the football game playing on TV. 

Sam understood that this was Dean-speak for “Thanks for coming home, Bobby and I would probably drive each other insane otherwise.”

“Of course I came back,” he said, moving to sit next to Dean on the couch. “You guys are here.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean muttered, and Sam knew that despite the never-ending ribbing for being a city slicker with soft hands and girly music taste, Dean and Bobby were secretly pleased he was there.

A timer dinged from the kitchen.

“Pie’s done,” Dean said, pushing himself up from the couch. The sweet smell of apples permeating the house intensified as Dean removed the pie from the oven. 

Sam sank into his family home’s old overstuffed couch and listened to the sounds of Dean clinking things about in the kitchen and Bobby's familiar grumbling about the referees. He smiled to himself and took a drink from his cold beer.

It was just what he wanted for Christmas.

 

—

 

_Aldovia_

“Richard? Darling, are you coming to dinner?”

Footsteps drew nearer to the darkened study. The door creaked open, a shaft of light from the hallway falling across the carpet.

“Richard? Are you in there?” 

The door swung open all the way. A hand reached inside and switched the light on.

“Chuck, honey, time to wake up,” Queen Rebecca called, seeing the king slumped tiredly at his desk.

“…Chuck?” she asked, when he didn’t stir. Frowning, she crossed the room and reached out a hand to shake his shoulder.

He was very cold. Queen Rebecca snatched her hand back as if she had been burned, and just as quickly reached back for him. 

“Wake up,” she said, shaking him again. The king’s head lolled back and forth across the papers scattered across the desk.

“Wake UP!” she screamed. “Richard!” 

“Your Majesty?” Naomi’s voice came calling from the hall. In the next second she appeared in the doorway. 

“Naomi,” Queen Rebecca said, voice shaking, “call an ambulance. Immediately.”

 

—

 

_The number you have called is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone._

 

_ Missed Call (3) from Mother, 25/12/2016 02:04 AM _

_ Missed Call from Palace Office, 25/12/2016 02:15 AM _

_ Missed Call (2) from Gabby, 25/12/2016 06:37 AM _

 

_ Unread Messages: 8 _

_ From: Mother, 25/12/2016 02:00 AM _

Castiel, please answer your phone. It’s urgent.

 

_ From: Mother, 25/12/2016 02:02 AM _

I know things haven’t been good the past few years. But I am asking you. Please, answer your phone.

 

_ From: Mother, 25/12/2016 02:07 AM _

I can’t leave this in a message. Just, please call me back.

 

_ From: Mother, 25/12/2016 02:07 AM _

I love you.

 

_ From: Anna, 25/12/2016 02:10 AM _

Castiel, I’m so sorry. Has anyone gotten in contact with you? Call me.

 

_ From: Palace Office, 25/12/2016 03:04 AM _

Your Highness, my sincerest condolences. Please contact us to arrange your return flight as soon as possible.

 

_ From: Gabby, 25/12/2016 06:35 AM _

Cas pick up your FREAKING PHONE

 

_ From: Gabby, 25/12/2016 06:40 AM _

Cas

 

 

 

Daddy died

 

—

 

_Suvarnabhumi Airport, Bangkok, Thailand_

_January 2nd, 2017_

Driven by years of etiquette lessons, Castiel stifled the umpteenth jaw-cracking yawn behind his fist, clenching his teeth tight enough to hurt. 

He was sure the bags under his eyes were frighteningly large, his face itched with incoming stubble, and his hair was a rat’s nest. But he hadn't much cared about all that during the past month traveling around remote villages in  Timor-Leste. 

He checked his watch—he had enough time to replace his cellphone, lost somewhere between Dili and Suai since early December, and grab a coffee before his flight to Romania departed. 

He decided he’d prioritize the coffee.

Shuffling through the crowds as if in a daydream, on reflex he kept his head down and tried to avoid attention. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to recognize him.

It was because of this that he didn’t pay attention to any of the dozens of TVs throughout the airport until he was handing over his few baht for a steaming cup of coffee. 

It was turned to BBC News. They were showing some sort of funeral procession, clearly for some sort of head of state—there was an armed guard, dozens of black cars, streets lined with mourners paying their respects despite the snow covering the ground. The cars were approaching a stately building that—that—

Castiel dropped his change, coins clattering over the counter. He finally registered the ticker tape on the bottom, which read “Funeral Procession of King Richard of Aldovia”.

There was a rushing noise in his ears that gradually resolved itself into words.

“—sir? Sir,” the cashier was saying, awkwardly holding the coffee out and the few coins that hadn’t rolled away. 

“Uh—sorry,” Castiel said, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. The cars were pulling in front of the House of Parliament, including the largest, the one draped with snow white flowers, the one with a coffin in it, the one with his _father—_

“Sorry,” he repeated, and abruptly tore away from the counter. 

“Sir? Your coffee! _Sir!_ ” called the cashier, leaning over the counter and watching the strange, scruffy European man push through the crowd, leaving a trail of surprised and disgruntled travelers in his wake. 

“What was his problem?” asked the next customer as she approached the counter, craning her neck back to watch as well. 

The cashier, still holding the coffee, glanced at the TV screen, which was showing some sort of funeral. A casket was being moved up the steps of some sort of government building, trailed by a lot of strangely-dressed guards and what must have been the family, dressed all in black. One person was in a wheelchair and had to be carried up the steps. She shrugged and turned back to the customer.

"I have no idea," she said.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Rae,
> 
> Merry Friendsmas! This exists because there wasn't enough time between your birthday and Christmas for my slow butt to write another whole entire chapter :') 
> 
> This is UNBETA'ed so please let me know if there's anything that needs to be fixed! 
> 
> And yes, there's a possibility these will continue :')
> 
> SORRY THAT I ADDED ANGST


End file.
